


Take It Slow

by aidyas



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aidyas/pseuds/aidyas
Summary: "Haru heads back to his room, mindlessly finishes his work and listens to music, staring at the ceiling. Breathing in, he waits as the stress and anxiety built up throughout the day rolls off of him like waves. It seeps into his bed, growing heavier by the minute. His heart tugs again, and he’s not sure why. Something is bothering him, but he can’t quite tell what it is." 
A.k.a. Haru discovers something that may change his dynamic with his best friend. Great.





	

“Haru, you’re going to be late.” Haru assumes Makoto is saying something along those lines. Submerged under the comforting tug and pull of the gentle water, Makoto’s actual words are unknown to him, but he feels the familiar overbearing presence only Makoto seems to posses inch up his skin. Haru closes his eyes, breathes out heavily, and opens them again to an outstretched hand in front of him. He grasps onto the hand, knowing he’d never be able to fight against the alluring captivation of water without assistance. Makoto calls him by a name assigned to him by the emerald eyed boy since middle school. Haru sighs, reminding his best friend for the umpteenth time to lay off the “-chan”.

“Okay, I’m off now! Goodbye, Haru!” Makoto announces after glancing at the time, and realising that he’s going to be late if he doesn’t leave soon. Haru doesn’t move to greet him, only letting out a “hn” to show Makoto that he’s heard. Makoto is aware of Haru’s acute personality, knowing this is his way of greeting, so he flashes Haru a grin and disappears out the door. It takes a while for Haru to realise he’s still staring at the door after Makoto leaves. In fact, it’s the smell of grilled fish that initially snaps him out of it. He takes it as a cue to resume cooking. Haru makes his food slowly, steadily. He knows in exactly seven minutes that his doorbell, no, their doorbell is going to ring so he moves to the table to eat, forking a morsel of food into his mouth.

Haru’s off by one minute, but he doesn’t really mind. It gives him more time to savour and enjoy his food. The doorbell rings and is silent for a few minutes as Haru proceeds to ignore it. It doesn’t stay quiet for very long, however, as the door bursts open minutes later with a slam, a mess of red hair, and a loud shout of Haru’s name. Haru sighs in annoyance at having his peace disturbed, but nobody can ever really shut Rin up. Trust him, many have tried.

“We’re late! Lets go, stop eating!” Rin reaches out a hand to grab Haru’s plate, but his wrist is held firmly in place by Haru’s own hand, and his body is frozen by Haru’s menacing glare. With a huff, he pushes Rin’s hand away from his plate, causing Rin to almost stumble before shaking his head in defeat.

“No. You came late, so I’m going to enjoy my breakfast.” Rin groans in annoyance because this is _so like Haru_. Nevertheless, he pulls up a chair and sits to face the raven haired male eating with what seems like an hour in between each bite, pressing the back of the chair against his front. He states aloud that coach may just rip their heads off this time and use them as pool floats, to which Haru retorts by saying Rin’s head would probably float more seeing as his brain is filled with nothing but air. Rin rolls his eyes. Haru’s still eating after all this, and Rin swears he’s just doing it now because it’s annoying the red-head.

“You done? Good, lets go!” Rin sees Haru stuff the last piece of mackerel into his mouth and begins rushing to get Haru out the door, but Haru insists he must wash the plate. Rin sighs, uttering a “fine” before he’s forced to watch Haru trudge his way cautiously to the sink as though it were a maze of land mines. He’s decided he’s sick of Haru’s shit, so he runs past the blue eyed male and grabs his plate before stuffing it into the sink and pushing Haru to the front of his house. Haru pretends to be annoyed, but he really couldn’t be bothered. He just likes to mess with Rin sometimes because the other male tends to get angry quite easily, and everybody within a 10 meter radius finds his loud screams of annoyance humorous. Honestly, Haru’s just doing them all a favour, providing them with free comedy.

Rin’s grinding his sharp teeth now, groaning about how late they are. Amongst the whirring of busy roads, the flashing lights of the city, and the roaring winds, Haru has drowned Rin’s complaining out. It’s not long before Rin stops talking and takes note of his surroundings. They walk the same road every day, but Rin is never ready for it. The realisation of being in Tokyo, of being so close to his dream that he swears he can almost taste it always hits Rin way too hard, way too fast. His heart always seems to jump when he realises this, how far he’s come, and he can’t seem to not be in awe of it all.

Although the roads are busy, people on the pavement are quite scarce. In fact, at this time of day, Haru could probably count the number of people he’s seen on one hand. Haru’s not one to pay attention, but walks like these seem oddly unfamiliar. For some reason, since moving to Tokyo and walking to the centre with Rin, Haru’s acquired an incomprehensible sour taste on his tongue. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong, but it’s like a shift in the air, as if someone moved some of his furniture an inch to the left and left some as is. Nonetheless, Haru just pushes it to the back of his mind, suppresses it like he’s done so since he moved to Tokyo.

Rin notices something’s up with Haru. This happens during the same part of the day, every day. The minute Haru leaves his and Makoto’s house, the atmosphere changes. Rin’s always been told that “unintelligent people don’t see, and intelligent people don’t ask”, so he leaves it alone. But as Rin is the designated emotional one in the friendship group, he can’t help but worry for Haru. That’s what Rin believes he’s been designed to do. He was made to soak up all the excess emotion like a sponge, magnify it, and reflect it back. So if Haru was worried, he’d be worried tenfold. If Makoto was scared, he’d be scared too. If Nagisa was happy, he’d reflect that upon everybody else.

As they’re walking, the boys are enveloped by silence as the sounds of harsh winds are the only ones present. It’s at this time of day that most people are occupied with their profession, their children, their friends, their lives, so the streets have become relatively silent. For some reason, as both males are aware of the shift in Haru’s personality, the tension thickens, laced in their silence, walking beside them, in between them, pushing their heads to look away from each other as none dare to speak of it. None of them know exactly _what's_ wrong, they just know that _something is_  which only serves to amplify their discomfort.

Rin releases a breath of relief as they reach the centre, looking at his watch to find that they’re almost half an hour late. He can already envision the rage in his coach’s face, and the idea of ditching altogether seems extremely captivating. However, he knows if he puts it off, it’s just going to come back and bite him in the ass, so he mentally prepares himself with deep breaths before resorting to pushing Haru in first.

They try to play it off casually, slinking behind the mess of other swimmers, sneaking to their positions without coach even noticing them. However, that plan was destined to fail from the beginning, thanks to Rin’s bright noticeable head. Coach sees them instantly, but just to further exemplify their behavior, he makes the other swimmers stay silent as he pretends to not notice them. Everybody’s laughing at Rin and Haru now, and Rin being the humorous one only makes them laugh harder as they believe this is purposeful. But Rin isn’t trying to be funny as he ducks away from coach. He’s just trying to stay out of trouble.

“Matsuoka, Nanase, get your asses here.” _fuck_ , Rin thinks. They’ve been caught. Everybody else knows they’ve been caught since the moment they set foot in the building, and coach is just toying with them now.

“Oh uh, hey coach. What’s up?” Rin grins, trying to play cool as the other swimmers are snickering behind him. Coach is glaring, and Rin panics inwardly. Oh god, he’s just making it worse.

“You’re late. This is the third time. What shitty excuse do you have now?” Coach is rolling his eyes. He’s used to it, practically predicted it today.

“You know, there was a stray baby kitten on the way here, and Haru, poor kid, has so much pity in his heart that we had to take it to the vet. It’s tough because it was so cute, and fluffy, and it had these big eyes that you couldn’t look away from and-“ Rin buckles under the pressure, his lying skills were never good to begin with. Haru’s glaring at Rin’s head as he speaks. He’s fucking it up for both of them. Rin is quickly cut off by coach’s voice with a hint of mild annoyance.

“Just, shut up. 10 laps, each of you. Now.” Rin sighs, lowering his head as his friends begin to mock him. He sticks a foot out to kick one of them in the shin before he and Haru get in their respective lanes. Haru leisurely swims back and forth, enjoying the comforting feel of calm waves gliding off his skin. The coolness runs down his body, and the lack of gravity makes it feel like Haru’s lying on a soft cloud. He pushes a hand through, watching as the water parts ways for him. He’s in admiration of the beauty, whilst Rin is pushing off the walls in desperation to get it over with.

The swimming centre is large, designed for professional athletes. Haru’s Iwatobi club swimming pool seems insignificant in comparison. Twice the width, and Haru swears, twice the length. The pool, encased under an airy roof to ensure that the weather would not be a good enough reason to cease swimming, is surrounded by eating areas where occasionally groups of swimmers would enter for a light meal between sets. Haru, naturally distanced from the exciteable and loud swimmers, stuck around and bonded with Rin’s friends as he was the only person Haru could speak to comfortably. Though Haru is quiet and tends to opt out of joining conversations, he doesn’t hinder Rin’s ability to make friends so Rin doesn’t really care. Rin just does his best to look out for the darker haired male, who seems too frightened to enjoy the change in atmosphere from Iwatobi.

Once warm ups are finished, Rin and Haru take time to race each other before meeting with some other swimmers for relays. They test times, do workouts, practice their entries and exits from the water, and exhaust themselves to the point where Haru can feel his legs threatening to give under him. Around him, a minuscule amount of the other swimmers are still thriving. Their once warm, almost welcoming excitement becomes a nuisance to Haru, who feels as though they’re just taking pride in their stamina and trying to show it off. Rin has already collapsed among a mass of other swimmers. The mess of red hair is groaning and whining about _how much it hurts_ , but their coach is just laughing. He thoroughly enjoys the fact that it was his workouts and his enthusiasm that made them this tired. Unbeknownst to, and unfortunately for the swimmers, coach decides to make this a personal goal for every training session - to tire them all out before they leave.

Haru can barely believe it’s just reaching half an hour before noon. The exhaustion must have removed any sense of time for him. It seems that it has done the same for Rin too, who is walking by Haru alongside their designated group of swimmer friends, gasping, clearly shocked that the sun is still out. He swears it’s night already. He then proposes that they might have swam through the entire day, and it’s already the day after. A tall boy with brown tousled hair laughs, assuming Rin has made a joke. Rin states that he’s being completely serious before the boy just grins. Haru notes that this boy, Natsuya Kirishima, laughs at everything.

“Rin,” Another male, with hair so red it could compete with Rin’s, begins to whine out his name. Haru notes that he’s considerably shorter than the aforementioned brown haired kid. His personality is also a lot more enthusiastic. He has both hands behind his head, walking in a lazed, relaxed position, but his eyes are scrunched to block his face from the glaring sun beating down at them. He’s frowning, no, pouting it seems.

“What?” Rin snaps, although this is not uncommon for Rin to feign anger. A loud, audible **clap**  is heard vibrating through the otherwise silent air as Rin’s head is smacked by the similarly red haired male. Natsuya chuckles. In a spur, Rin turns sharply, hissing.

“What the hell was that for?”

Haru still hasn’t gotten this kid’s name. It’s not their fault either. All of these swimmers have politely introduced themselves to Haru, but he never really took notice to remember those names.

“My shin hurts, you asshole!” The male retorts, grinning. Rin huffs loudly, sarcastically, before laughing alongside the other swimmers. Haru’s lips don’t even manage a smile. Nevertheless, the rowdyness deters them from asking Haru questions, so he just becomes a presence, always there but never engaging. Nobody else minds.

Almost as if time slows down, Haru turns to notice the people around him, the people that he spends all of his days with in the three weeks he’s moved to Tokyo. They’re all very loud, and easily humored. Many of them find ways to laugh at almost everything, but a lot of the time, the comedic center of attention tends to be Rin. Almost like a lightning strike, Haru is pressed with the notion that he greatly appreciates these people that have taken such a quick liking to him. Even Rin, who’s been helping him with the difficulty of change between Iwatobi and Tokyo. Without them, Haru’s swimming situation would be much different. Haru sometimes wonders if his disengagement with these people makes them dislike him. Haru questions if occasionally adding his opinion, rarely speaking his word would be enough.

It takes a while, but the walk to their campus always seems to shorten when these people are around him. Although he’s not actively participating, Haru likes to listen to their conversations. They’re strangely appealing, whether they’re cracking jokes at each others’ expense, whether they’re speaking of swimming styles and routines, or anything else for that matter. Haru just likes to hear them. It helps pull him away from his thoughts. He believes he should never be left alone for a long period of time with his thoughts. That could be extremely harmful as Haru actively tries to not to unearth anything he’s decided to bury.

“Ahh, if we’re all going to be olympic swimmers, then why do we have to go to regular classes?” The redheaded boy complains, hands balling up as though he were to throw a tantrum.

“It’s not as though we are to swim forever, now are we? This knowledge could be useful, Asahi.” A gentle voice makes itself known. Haru turns to find the owner of that voice, and it belongs to a taller swimmer. He’s situated in the back of the group, standing next to Natsuya. His smile is kind, and his words are soft. Those words are also careful, borderline formal as though he’s been practicing them for a while. His face pulls into a smile that lights Haru with a warmth that’s familiar, yet distant. Haru can’t place his finger on it, and the feeling from his commute to school bubbles up in him again. Again, he pushes it down.

“Arghh, I hate that your point is so fucking valid!” Asahi groans, hands gripping at his hair. The other male, with shoulder length silver hair, only curves his lips up fondly in response. It’s that kind of smile that makes him look that much more like an adult. It distances the age gap between Haru and the kid. Natsuya laughs, but it’s indiscernible exactly what he’s laughing at. Haru bets it’s at Asahi’s comment, although he doesn’t quite see the humour in it.

For a while, the excitement dies down as they collectively make their way to their various classes. Natsuya and the silver haired student are older than the rest by a few years, but their class is on the way so Haru, Rin and Asahi wait for them to disappear through the door before making their way to their own class. As they walk through the door Natsuya is laughing at something again, but this time he’s looking fondly at the other kid. Haru thinks it’s in admiration. He assumes if he knew the silver haired boy a little more, Haru thinks he’d also admire him. He seems like the type to be admired.

“Okay twerps, see ya later!” Asahi laughs lightly, waving at Rin and Haru. Classes and lectures at his university tend to give the illusion of an extended day. After a few hours of intense participation and note-taking, Haru exhausts his brain, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing to try to not overexert himself. He prides himself on this special skill he developed in middle school, to just not give a shit. Rin is sitting in the row in front of him, sleeping. Haru can see the small puddle of drool seeping out his mouth and onto his sweater sleeve. His face reflexively scrunches up in disgust, and he lets out a heavy sigh before turning back to the nothing he had been previously occupying himself with.

By the time class ends, Haru has to hit Rin upside the head to wake him up. He’s sure the professor hates Rin, and if Haru keeps hanging out with Rin, then by extension, the professor would hate Haru as well. Snapping him out of this train of thought is Rin, who’s murmuring to “[his] mum” to give him five more minutes. Pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Haru grits his teeth and smacks Rin again.

“Ow! You fuckface! I’m going to lose all my brain cells.” Rin groans, finally awake.

“Never had any to begin with.” Haru retorts quickly with a tone that is too bland to be insulting Rin before turning and heading out the door. He knows Rin will catch up.

“Not like you’re better!” Rin shouts, standing to pack his bag, the echoes reaching Haru at the door but only faintly. Haru rolls his eyes, pretending to not notice Rin’s comment.

As Haru opens the door, a gust of wind spreads out from behind him. The change in temperature between the lecture hall and the school hallway is noticeable and hits him instantly. The warmth glides over his face as he steps outside, sweat already starting to pile on his forehead as he takes off the recommended blazer. He turns to begin walking but is stopped by Asahi who is beside the door, cocking his head in confusion.

“Do you guys honestly hate each other? I get they’re jokes and stuff, but it gets harsh, no?” Asahi questions with complete curiosity. This question forces Haru to think for a while. Though many would argue that their expressiveness would end up creating tension, maybe even hatred between the young swimmers, it’s quite the opposite in fact. Their friendly banter lets them release steam, and even though sometimes their words hold truth, none of them seem to mind. Their dynamic is expressive, loud, almost annoying. They need to be critical and judgemental of each other, but Haru knows Rin would help him in a pinch without even second guessing it. Rin’s reliable, he supposes.

“No. I don’t hate him.” Haru responds after a moment of thinking. He can’t quite find the words to explain why their insults are crucial to their relationship, and he doubts Asahi wants a drawn on answer, so he’s quick and concise. He answers the question Asahi presents directly but doesn’t take time to answer all the implied or underlying questions. Asahi figures that’s all Haru has to say on the topic, so he leaves it alone. As they’re waiting for Rin, Haru notices the sky darkening. He glances at his watch which reads a good 6:30. It hits 31 as Rin steps out the door, grunting about how Haru could have waited for him in the lecture hall. Asahi teases that Rin is scared of being in there alone, which turns Rin’s face red as he gets defensive. As usual, Haru has spaced out from the conversation, thinking instead about how much mackerel he wants for dinner.

Their walk home is strenuous and tiring as they have to drop each other off along the way. Haru and Makoto’s apartment is the furthest, seeing as it was bought to accomodate transportation to both of their universities and not just Haru’s. He doesn’t really mind walking the last kilometer himself. It gives him time to think about nothing and recover all the energy he’s drained from being around his friends. Exiting the elevator, his heart leaps in want of the comfort of his home as Haru stands by the door, fumbling around for his keys. Finally inserting it into the lock, he heaves the door open, hearing it creak loudly as it attempts to push back on Haru.

“I’m home.” Haru states when he finally makes it inside, in his low, expressionless voice.

“Welcome home, Haru.” In contrast, Makoto’s voice is high, sweet, and warm. Haru’s lungs tighten.

“Have you had dinner?” Haru questions, placing his bags on the floor. Makoto shakes his head in response, smiling all the while. Haru nods before turning to walk to the kitchen. Makoto follows suit, asking if Haru requires assistance, to which Haru shakes his head, commenting that Makoto has no culinary skill. In response, Makoto whines Haru’s name, before grinning and sitting at the dinner table. It doesn’t take long before Haru prepares mackerel for himself, and some other aromatic dish for Makoto. The taller male insists that he can just eat whatever Haru’s having, but Haru knows it’s a lie to make him feel better. Their dinner is washed over by silence, aside from the occasional chewing sound, and Makoto’s questions about Haru’s day.

“It’s been a while since we’ve eaten together like this, it’s nice.” Makoto comments in a soft voice, which disheartens Haru. He nods in response, but doesn’t make a move to reply. Makoto doesn’t mind, Haru never really says anything anyway.

“The food is great Haru, thank you.” Makoto is beaming, and Haru feels his cheeks get warm. Makoto’s compliments always take him by surprise. He refuses to look up, in case Makoto notices the faint blush. Makoto doesn’t see it. Haru’s face heats up mildly before he stuffs himself with copious amounts of food to prevent any stupid thing his brain can conjure coming out of his mouth. As much as Makoto is understanding, the feeling of being the only one conversing eventually makes it difficult for him to continue speaking, so the room fills up with silence once more.

However, contrary to what others might say, it’s not an uncomfortable silence. In fact, silence has weaved in and out of their friendship for years. Between Makoto’s shyness and Haru’s stoic-ness, silence has always been a natural third party. Naturally, over the years, the awkwardness that arrived hand in hand with silence eventually faded, leaving them with a calm, peaceful wave of nothingness. This feeling of being in each others’ presence has become a welcome event, just being able to laze around together and read a book, or lean into one another whilst watching a movie has become the norm. And to Haru it’s warm. It’s bright. It’s rejuvinating.

But it’s now a luxury that he can barely afford. Since their moving to Tokyo, Haru has become preoccupied with his studies and swimming, and Makoto spends late nights in his college. Haru barely sees his best friend, his roomate. Their routine consists of waking early, Haru slinking into the tub, Makoto coming to make sure he isn’t late for school, and Haru coming home early and falling asleep before Makoto even arrives at the apartment door. Meeting each other, although a daily event, gradually shortens in time span as they barely have time to greet one another. Haru stays in the tub to wait for Makoto because it’s the only time he may have the chance to see the other’s face, so Haru makes sure to take as much of it in as he can.

Haru dreads the moment they both finish their food because it’s inevitable, but eventually time catches up, so Makoto waves Haru off, and gets up to do the dishes. Haru heads back to his room, mindlessly finishes his work and listens to music, staring at the ceiling. Breathing in, he waits as the stress and anxiety built up throughout the day rolls off of him like waves. It seeps into his bed, growing heavier by the minute. His heart tugs again, and he’s not sure why. Something is bothering him, but he can’t quite tell what it is. Feeling heavy, Haru gets up. It’s been like this for a long time now, and he hopes a bath will rid him of this heavy sinking feeling.

Half an hour later, and he hasn’t lost any of it. In fact, the only thing he’s gained is pruny fingers and wet hair. He sinks lower into the bathtub. He can’t quite pinpoint it, but it aches, and it’s bothering him. The only thing that makes it go away is not thinking, but he can’t not think about it forever. Sighing, Haru sinks until the tips of his fringe presses into the surface of the water. He stares at it dips around the dark blue of his hair. His nose forms bubbles as he blows out, and the water’s warmth makes his face a little redder, a little brighter. Haru contemplates staying for another half hour, but decides to leave as he doesn’t want to taint the pure water with his discomfort.

He grabs the blue towel, running it through his hair, and not trying too hard to rid the water on his body. He figures it’ll eventually dry, so who cares? He slumps onto his bed again, turning his head to glance at the pile of homework he needs to finish by the end of the week. Haru waves it off. He’ll do it tomorrow, it’s still Monday.

He wonders what Makoto’s doing. Knowing the taller male, he’s probably studying. Haru envisions it. He imagines Makoto sitting at his desk, staring intently at some math problem. Makoto’s face is probably srunched up, frowning at his confusion. Haru hopes he has earphones on because Haru swears he’s told him since birth to relax, and Makoto easily finds calm in music. Makoto’s determination would probably never let him skip the question, so he’ll probably hunch over his work and stare at it until he caves and goes online for tutorials. Of course Makoto would be frantic over something like a math problem. Because that’s who Makoto is.

Makoto cares too much about things that don’t really matter. Like getting Haru out of the bath in the morning, for example. Or one stupid math problem that he could probably skip. Makoto’s the type of person who cares way too much about people, too. Like the time he gave up a dolphin because Haru really wanted it. He’s too selfless, sometimes. And he definitely smiles too much, but Haru doesn’t mind. It’s warm. Haru wonders if other people feel the same warmth that he does when Makoto smiles. Haru wonders if Makoto also holds other people when they’re crying. He wonders if other people also notice Makoto’s unnecessary panic over things like going to the pool when it’s cold. He wonders if other people knows Makoto like he does.

Haru realises he’s known Makoto for way too long now, so much so that he doesn’t quite remember a life without Makoto. He remembers joining the swim team with the green eyed boy because Makoto really wanted to. He remembers meeting Nagisa, Rin, and Rei, and how Makoto had been there through it all. He remembers starting a new swim club in high school, also because Makoto and Nagisa really wanted to. He remembers fighting with Makoto. He remembers Makoto telling him that he also likes boys, crying and apologising for it. He remembers his response was a simple shrug, and how Makoto had been confused at that. He remembers telling Makoto that he doesn’t really care, and doesn’t understand why other people care so much either. And again, there was that smile.

And even then, he felt warm. The kind of warm that arrives from being tucked under a blanket next to a fireplace. The same warmth that comes from drinking a mug of cocoa whilst wearing a Christmas jumper. Makoto was, to Haru, home. And he didn’t know what to make of that. And as Haru realises he’s gone off on a tangent when all he intended to do was question what Makoto was doing at that moment, he also realised something else. He understood the heavy feeling, but for some reason, understanding didn’t quite make anything better. In fact, knowing why he’s felt like weights have been placed on his shoulder for the longest time has managed to make everything so much worse.

Because as Haru was staring up into the ceiling, thinking about everything he and Makoto have done together, he realised he might be in love with his best friend. And he wasn’t quite sure as to how to proceed with this new piece of information.


End file.
